


Prolonging the Magic

by TheShinobiFourteen



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShinobiFourteen/pseuds/TheShinobiFourteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Resident samurai prince and wyvern rider princess fall hopelessly in love with each other while siblings and soldiers alike watch on in amusement and sometimes disgust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1: First Impressions

I.i

“Your squad shouldn’t have been in the front.”

Ryoma rose an eyebrow at the eldest Nohrian Princess. “You want me to use my men as a meat shield? Hide behind the ranks when I should be there beside them?”

“Fine.” Camilla grudgingly retracted the previous statement. “Perhaps not that, but she should have been moved.”

“I agree.”

Camilla turned and frowned severely at the Prince. “Then why didn’t you do it?” she asked, sternly, only to hear him sigh.

“You think I didn’t suggest that, futile as it was?” Camilla continued her exacting glare, as though she was forcing him to explain himself. “Rosalind never listens. You know that. If you have to blame anyone, blame me. I should have kept a closer eye on her.” The words were out before Ryoma realized the unfortunate pun he just made. From their bedside stations both he and Camilla glanced uneasily at their sister, who was currently fast asleep after receiving treatment for her left eye which she’d just lost, courtesy of failing to sidestep a shortsword. 

“Milord. Is this all a joke to you?” Camilla spat.

Just as he considered whether it would be better to simply apologize and leave it at that or try and offer some clarification, both of the royals heard a low groaning noise from the head of the cot, the two fixed their attention on their sister. Her good eye was open and staring straight up at the tent ceiling, her mouth slightly open. They watched in bewilderment as her mouth gradually opened wider, the moan she was making building until she bridged it into speech.

“Gods, _why_ is you two bickering the thing I wake up to?” Rosalind wondered aloud in groggy annoyance.

“I’m sorry about that, dear.” The edge in Camilla’s voice and countenance had disappeared and was now replaced with what seemed to be genuine concern, as she brushed back strands of hair floating on her sister’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I-” Rosalind paused for a moment. “I’m well. All things considered.” She sniffed, then added, “The whole left side of my face hurts.”

“Is there anything you need?” Ryoma asked, hastily. “Anything. Just name it.”

“Well, you could start by learning to communicate with each other in a civil manner.” Rosalind japed. Then she sighed. “In all seriousness though, would one of you mind calling Felicia or Jakob? Whichever one you run into first.” Ryoma grinned and pressed a hand to her arm affectionately as he stood to leave.

“I’d be happy to, Sister.”

“Is there anything else you need?” Camilla inquired. Rosalind began to sit up gingerly, and Camilla rushed to support her. Once she was sitting upright, she stroked her sister’s arm in thanks.

“No, thank you… I’ll have Jakob, Flora and Felicia waiting on me hand on foot, anyway, so don’t concern yourselves too much.” After pausing for a moment, Rosalind gave a wide yawn and lay back down, draping the back of her arm across her forehead.“Would it really kill the two of you to be nice to each other? In fact, not just you two, the two families in general?”

I.ii  
Camilla found her older brother in his study plucking away at a lute and singing lowly to himself. The tune was in some somber mode, judging by the sequence of the notes. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest, Xander seemed to be more invested in depictions of anguish more than any other emotion. The song was a painfully familiar one and memories resurfaced of her brother’s young shaking fingers struggling through a single ballad after a day’s training with Siegfried. The lyrics were but a distant recollection and her older brother’s singing was quiet enough that the words were indistinguishable, but she did remember a title, so she took a shot in the dark.

“Homecoming?” The Princess took a seat in front of the desk and crossing her legs. Xander plucked the resolution, then muffled the strings with his palm as he set the instrument aside.

“You remember that?” Her older brother's tone was almost shocked and Camilla giggled.

“It’s rare for you to grace anyone with a song, my dear brother. One would do well to remember those few instances where you do.”

“Ah, well.” Xander folded his hands as he gave a little shrug. “Being crown prince does not offer much opportunities for leisure.” At this, Camilla felt a slight twinge of guilt at interrupting his break time. Before she could apologize and leave, he went on. “But what can I do for you, Camilla?”

“It’s about Prince Ryoma-“ Her brother’s gaze darkened for the briefest of moments. Of course he would assume the worst. “Worry not, he did nothing to wrong me.” Camilla added quickly. “I just wanted to know how he was in say... casual conversation.” Xander blinked at her in confusion.

“The Prince? He’s polite on the whole, though not without a touch of tactlessness… Why, what kind of answer are you looking for?”

“Is he awkward at all?”

“Not with me or any of the other commanders as far as I can see.” Xander replied carefully, still not convinced of the purpose for his sister’s curiosity. “If I may be so bold to ask, what is the meaning of this?”

Camilla sighed, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

“Rosalind woke up in the middle of an argument between me and the prince. She brought up about how the royal families couldn’t get along, so I thought I’d try to befriend Prince Ryoma. He was all for it, but when it came to speaking with him it was like trying to get blood from a stone.” She explained.

“Perhaps it was the topic of conversation. What did you talk about?”

“That’s the issue, Xander. We couldn’t find _anything_ to talk about.” Camilla answered, twirling some of her hair about her index finger.

The Prince hummed in understanding. “And you want to remedy that?”

“Preferably. Yes.”

“What course of action were you planning on?”

“We agreed to try to find conversation topics for our next meeting, but I can’t think of anything. ” Camilla sighed as she stood up lethargically. “Thank you for listening, Brother. Please have a good night.” Xander still seemed confused as he nodded at her.

“You’re welcome. Good night to you too, Sister. And good luck with the prince.” 

I.iii  
Ryoma paced back and forth across Hinoka’s tent with the look of complete concentration on his face. His sister sat back on her knees on her unfurled bedroll, her arms crossed as she watched him with a faint smile as she watched the entertaining display . He stopped his pacing, turning on his heel to face her, then unceremoniously landed on the ground and sat in front of his sister.

“We had nothing to talk about.” He recalled to her in a deadpan tone. Barely stifling a snort, Hinoka shrugged.

“Sometimes people don’t have anything to converse about. It happens.” She offered. But Ryoma shook his head swiftly.

“I can’t leave it at that.”

“Of course you can’t.” Hinoka teased. “You wouldn’t be my brother if you just rolled over and gave up so quickly.” In the midst of her response, he’d sprung to his feet and resumed his pacing.

“There has to be a topic for us to discuss, _some_ common ground-“ He stopped again as he noticed Hinoka covering her mouth, clearly unable to stop her laughter any longer. “Why are you laughing?!” he asked, completely scandalized.

“Nothing!” Hinoka said in between fits of giggles. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you agonize over a woman before.”

“It’s nothing of that sort.” Ryoma retorted. The response was quick enough to seem harsh or defensive, and Hinoka raised her hands innocently, though still grinning.

“Only observing.” Sighing, Ryoma walked back in front of her and reclaimed his seat .

“The Crown Prince of Hoshido cowers in the face of casual conversation!” Ryoma sighed miserably with an exaggerated droop of the shoulders. “…I suppose I only have myself to blame.” He admitted. “I’ve given so much time to being a warrior and a prince for so long and completely ignored being a person.” Hinoka let out a small grunt of hesitant disagreement.

“I wouldn’t think of it that way.”

“How do you see it, then?”

“Think of it more like a technique. The technique of conversing. And like anything else, if you want to get better at it, you practice.”

“I see your point, sister.”

“Just give her a chance. Princess Camilla isn’t so intimidating once you get to know her.”

I.iv  
Ryoma trailed Rosalind, a concerned look on his face. The army had just dealt with a pack of humanoid Faceless with little to no difficulty. The cavalry had taken out most of the enemy in their first charge like an ocean wave, leaving little for the infantry to dispatch. However, after a few days of "adjustment training" as she and her family were calling it, Rosalind insisted on being deployed. She’d done fairly well, Ryoma observed- that is, until she stepped on a discarded axe the wrong way and fell over. He was also quite certain one’s ankle should not move that way. Before the fighter could take advantage of that, he’d sprinted over and swiftly decapitated it. He helped her up and asked if she could walk, and the response was an affirmative along with a quick pat to the shoulder as she limped away. Ryoma didn’t believe it at all, but knew she wouldn’t respond well to him forcing his help on her, so he made himself content with following closely behind in case something happened. And something did, of course. The path back to camp sloped a bit, causing Rosalind to put more weight on the injured ankle than she’d intended, which in turn caused her to fall over.

Immediately, Ryoma stepped forward and caught her.

“I suppose not, then.” Rosalind relented, wrapping an arm around her brother’s shoulders. 

“Thanks again-whoa.” Ryoma had snaked one arm around her back, then bent down and placed the other behind her knees and lifted her off the ground.

“You’re stubborn.” He remarked as he resumed his walk. Rosalind reached over and pulled on the cheek closest to her.

“Quiet. You’re one to talk.” Her hold on his right cheek remained as he continued his admonition, resulting in the next phrase becoming distorted.

“An’ you should shtop to fink when shomeone wike me tellsh you that you’re shtubborn.”

“Yes, Father.” Rosalind replied mockingly, releasing his cheek. Just before they entered camp and Ryoma was about to ask where the nearest healer’s tent was, they ran into Nohr’s First Princess.

“Rosalind? What happened?”

“Nothing to fret over. It’s twisted, the result of tripping over a stray axe handle. It would seem that I won’t be able to walk on it for some time.” Rosalind told her nonchalantly. 

“I told you to sit this skirmish out!”

“Sister, if you had your way, I’d sit every skirmish out. And I’d never grow used to fighting with this.” Rosalind tapped the black eyepatch over her left eye.

“You let her do this?” Camilla cried indignantly at the First Prince, who rose an eyebrow.

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I stayed with her the entire time in case anything happened. But she didn’t need my help anyway. She’s very quick, as we both know.” He smiled proudly at Rosalind.

“Why, thank you, Bro-“

“What if you weren’t there?” Camilla interrupted.

“Who knows? But it doesn’t matter since I was.”

“Are you two seriously going to do this now?” Rosalind pleaded quietly, and thus it went completely unnoticed.

“So you’re saying she could’ve died.”

“Such a possibility is one each person must accept every time they step onto the battlefield. Our sister, though precious, is no exception.”

“I think my ankle is swollen.” Rosalind said to no one in particular, lifting her leg so that she could peer over at it.

“How can you treat such a circumstance so lightly?”

“Do not mistake me. I speak in all seriousness. But the fight is done and more are certain to follow, so why do you trouble yourself with this?”

“Because if it did not happen last time, it may happen next time.”

“Yes. Oooh yes, it is very swollen. I do not fancy looking at it.” Rosalind mumbled to herself as she let her leg hang again.

“As I’ve said, she won’t get any stronger with either of us breathing down her neck. And if she stumbles once in a while? Fine. Failure is a most powerful motivation.”

“Yes, well. That would be fine if failure didn’t mean death.”

“Hence where I come in.”

“You’re missing the point. What I’m concerned about is the event in which you are not there.”

“Do either of you have the feeling that you’re talking in circles?” Rosalind cut in. Both immediately fell silent. Each took a turn at starting to speak, but in light of the question, had now realized they did not have anything to say to each other that was not said before, and instead glared at each other until Rosalind reached across and pulled on Camilla’s cheek.

“Youw- right.” She stepped far enough away that Rosalind had to release her. “Please, don’t allow me to obstruct your path to the healers any further.” She said curtly, then turned and strode away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi peeps! Thanks for reading! You could probably think of this as just a set of drabbles and whatnot. The idea was a Ryomilla romance told in a series of moments encapsulated in chapters. So yeah. Hope you'll stick around!
> 
> Many, many thanks to wildheartmustang who beta read this chapter.(Also whose fic you should totally go check out if you haven't already)


	2. Episode 2: Whirring

II.i

Some time following their argument, once Rosalind was able to walk around with the help of a stick that Kaze had procured, his sister had berated him enough that he actually felt a little guilty for provoking the Nohrian Princess. She insisted that Camilla had received the same treatment, but he still wasn’t convinced that he should feel sorry in any sense. And something told him that _she_ wasn’t either. Of course, that was until they inevitably crossed paths at the next war council and regarded each other with enough distance to raise a few eyebrows. The next morning after some ruminating on the subject, he walked purposefully into the Nohrian camp, and after asking around, found Camilla seated on a stool outside her tent sewing. Part of him hoped that she’d be too absorbed in her work to notice him, and it did appear so, but just as he stopped in front of her-

“Good morning, milord.” She lifted her head slightly to offer him one of her usual smiles- that tempered, tried, true, and altogether guarded kind that he imagined she flashed before the courtiers.

“Good morning.” He replied.

“What can I do for you, milord?” She’d resumed her sewing, and the tone was nonchalant and uninvolved despite the actual inquiry.

“Um.” He began awkwardly, oddly fixated by the vibrant pattern on what appeared to be the beginnings of a blanket or some other draping cloth- “I have been thinking about our argument the other day, and I believe I owe you an apology. Several, in fact. Our interactions are consistently… less than civil, to say the least.” Laughing softly, she put the needle and cloth down to look up at him, finally.

“If that’s true, then I should be sorry myself.” There was that smile again, though it was a little wider. Perhaps she was genuinely amused. “Did you come all this way to guilt trip me, Prince Ryoma?” She teased.

“N-not at all!” He blurted, inwardly cursing at the stammering. “I was actually hoping to make reparations, if you’d allow me.” More laughter. He imagined he looked rather confused. Which would make sense, because he felt confused. People never found him _this_ funny.

“So serious, milord!” She remarked in between laughs. Thankfully, it subsided. “But truly, it’s nothing.” Her head tilted to the side, as if she’d just realized something. “Then again- surely you wouldn’t mind staying and chatting with me awhile? Beruka keeps me company, but she’s never much for conversation.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to.”

“Beruka?” She called over her shoulder, and a short, armored young woman walked out from the side of the tent, watching him warily.

“What is your wish, milady?” Beruka asked in her usual monotone voice.

“Be a darling and fetch Prince Ryoma a stool to sit, please?”

“As you wish.” The wyvern rider left them swiftly, just enough time for an awkward silence to set in. Ryoma could hear bird chirps echoing in the distance. He shifted his right foot slightly.

“…Lovely weather we’re having.” Ryoma started, but the hesitance made it somewhere halfway between a question and a statement.

“I concur. We’ve been fortunate these past few days.” Camilla replied without missing a beat.

“Quite.” And once again, Ryoma was at a loss for how to continue on. Ask about whatever she’s sewing? Ask if she’d seen Rosalind lately? Meanwhile, Camilla watched him patiently. Beruka’s entrance put the embarrassment on the smallest of pauses as she emerged again from the side of the tent carrying a wooden stool nearly identical to the one Camilla occupied and set it next to her.

“Thank you very much, dear.” Beruka only nodded in response and left once more. Ryoma carefully placed himself on the stool. His fists clenched in his lap, and Hinoka’s advice echoed in his mind. _If you want it to get better at it, you practice._

“What are you working on?”

II.ii

She stood about one or two paces behind him as he approached Marzia stiffly, a hand outstretched as she had instructed him the moment before. At first, Marzia had been extremely wary at her master’s new friend, deep red eyes locked on the man and a low hissing in her throat. However, said friend was taking so long to draw near that the wyvern had actually set her head on the ground and continued to watch. Despite the creature lowering its defenses as well as Camilla’s reassurances(“Don’t worry, she won’t bite. At least while I’m here.”), it seemed that the Hoshidan prince’s limbs remained in absolute protest of bringing him nearer to the wyvern. Granted, he was apprehensive earlier when she’d invited him to accompany her on taking Marzia out for grooming, but she didn’t expect this kind of hesitation.

Camilla had half a mind to actually walk over and push him forward, if only for the purpose of making the prince even more flustered, but she knew neither he nor Marzia would like that. So she waited as Ryoma ever so slowly approached the wyvern, when suddenly, once he was another half minute away judging by his recent progress, Marzia lifted her head from the ground and nudged her nose into the prince’s palm before settling once more. Quite visibly, he tensed, but soon relaxed and began gingerly moving his hand in a circular motion on the wyvern’s snout.

“H-How did you two become acquainted?” He asked, tilting his head back towards her. Crossing her arms, Camilla strolled forward.

“My father once had a wyvern of his own.” She was right in front of him now, giving the top of Marzia’s head an affectionate pat. “Once he decided he wanted me to master the axe, he had Marzia bred for me from Fafnir. I’ve known her since she hatched.” After sparing a glance at Ryoma, she gave him a gentle push on his back, causing him to take a clumsy step forward. 

“You can move closer.” His hand moved to where Camilla’s had just been, continuing the circular rubbing motion.

“What made you want to learn to fight?” Crossing her arms again, Camilla let out a low chuckle. That reaction seemed to have its desired effect- the prince sensed the markings of a tender subject and began to stutter an apology. He was cut off as Marzia let out a sharp exhale, as the question had caused his petting to cease, and withdrew.

“Oh, Plenty of reasons. Among them being some feeling of obligation of serving my father the same way my older brothers and sisters had, and some vain hope that I could spare the siblings that came after me from all this.” Despite the bitter tone, she made sure to replace the smirk on her face.

“…I took up for Raijinto for similar reasons.” Ryoma offered. “Defending one’s country and family is-“ He gave a short laugh. “-If I may flatter the both of us for a moment, a noble cause. Though I find that in pursuance of that cause I distance myself from the people I wish to protect.”

“True. Though, given how often I’m around my family one would not think any distance between us. But there are things I can never share with them because of this war.”

Thankfully, he chose not to pursue that topic further, instead going on about how Sakura had composed a short koto exercise the other day. Regardless, that was a lot she’d told him. When was the last time she’d actually opened up to someone who wasn’t her brother? Oh, right. Years ago to some no-name, pipe-smoking bow knight in the middle of the night after the battle that earned her a commanding position in the Nohrian aerial cavalry. Pulling herself from her thoughts, she returned to listening to his story. Watching him, she found herself held somewhat rapt by the proud, fond smile on his face. Well, no matter. At least he was actually talking to her now, instead of awkwardly avoiding her gaze whilst scrambling for a conversation topic. A very small part of her felt it a shame, since such a display from the normally unshakeable general-prince was quite entertaining.

On the other hand, now that she’d mostly pulled him out of his shell, his company was something she looked forward to. However, the only subjects he’d consistently talk at length about were combat and politics. The current rambling about his siblings was a practice he’d only started implementing recently. No doubt that would continue in the coming days.

II.iii

Kagero took a cautionary glance around before entering Saizo’s tent. As she entered, the figure sitting on the mat in the center of the tent sprang to his feet. She fastened the tent flap shut and walked forward to meet him.

“May I venture a guess at the purpose of this meeting?” She asked curtly. “Lord Ryoma’s new favorite pasttime?”

“So you too have noticed his frequenting the Nohrian camp?”

“To visit a certain strong-thighed wyvern rider?”

“Yes.” Saizo affirmed gravely. Then for whatever reason, the short pause that followed allowed him to process Kagero’s word choice. “ _Strong-thighed_?” He repeated, as if to be sure his hearing had not deceived him.

“I felt it was slightly less obvious than ‘The Nohrian Princess’, but now that I think of it, there’s really no need. Three-quarters of the camp’s noticed by now.” Kagero explained haphazardly. “Do you disagree with my description?”

“On the contrary, I find it accurate.”

“I am glad to hear that. Though I am curious- what danger do you see in our lord growing closer to the princess?”

“I fear Lord Ryoma is in grave danger of losing his heart to this woman. You know her reputation, yes?”

“I do indeed.” Kagero answered. She knew what he’d follow it up with, so she cut him off by adding, “What makes you believe the attraction is one-sided?”

“Because he is always the one to seek her out. Never the other way around.”

“And yet if I recall correctly, did he not say yesterday that she had invited him to a picnic of sorts?”

“Ah, right. Yes.” Saizo conceded. ”But still, the number of times he has sought her out in comparison to-“

“Saizo, socialization is not a competition.” Kagero interrupted firmly. “Let’s assume the attraction is one-sided. Convince me of its danger.”

“I simply do not wish to see milord unnecessarily hurt... And to that end, we should ask that he be wary of his attachment to the princess.”

“I disagree.” She replied. “I think you are too quick to judge. They have only been seeing each other for three weeks. Allow the situation to handle itself for now.”

“But- How can you-“ Slight frustration could be heard in Saizo’s sputtering. But Kagero continued calmly.

“Your course of action is based on an interpretation of the situation that I am not convinced of. I wish to observe. Then we can choose whether or not it needs our help in it.” Saizo held her gaze for a moment, and it became clear that she would not budge.

“Fine.”

Just as Kagero turned to leave one last thought came to mind. “And may I remind you - that you were the one who pursued me.”

She saw a single red eye meet her gaze and the kunoichi left him to stew his thoughts.

 

II.iv

Ryoma could think of four reasons for wanting to join the Nohrians tonight, but two of them would not earn a chuckle from his siblings. First, Rosalind had invited the four of them, happily spouting something about Xander singing. Second, it was a chance to grow closer to their newfound allies, and as young royals of Hoshido, such an opportunity should not be missed. The other two slightly more embarrassing motives were one, curiosity at hearing that Xander would be singing for everyone, as he honestly had trouble picturing the prince doing such a thing, and two, that Princess Camilla would be there. Thankfully, his siblings were just as enthusiastic as he was to be attending, so there were no questionings on his motives. The four of them took a position on the outer layer of the circle. A little ways to their right sat several members of the ensemble atop a log, Xander in the middle of the group tuning a lute.

It was a noisy spectacle- soldiers of varying degrees of drunkenness continued to chatter and shout over each other. Ryoma heard several loud complaints about the lack of dancing when Xander nodded at a man sitting to his left with a drum between his legs. One, two, three, pounds on the drum and-

_“A health for all this day, to the woman who bears the sway! And wears the breeches, let it come, let it come!”_

“Let it come!” Erupted the crowd in response. The clear tenor voice along with the way Xander bounced in his seat with such unexpected exuberance had Ryoma thinking it was some stranger in the Prince’s attire. Turning his attention to the dancers circling around the fire, he spotted a flash of purple- was it purple? The fire made it difficult to tell. He waited a bit longer, and found that indeed Princess Camilla was among the dancers. She was hand in hand with another soldier when they passed in front of his section of the crowd and their eyes caught for a moment. She smiled in greeting, and then she was gone.

The song continued on for two more verses. It was repetitive enough that he began catching on to some of the words, and judging from the low, sheepish muttering coming from Takumi, so had his siblings. At the tune’s closing, whilst applause and cheers echoed around, Camilla flitted over to them.

“Why, if it isn’t the Hoshidan royal family!” She remarked brightly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Rosalind informed us that Xander’s musicianship is not to be missed.” Ryoma answered for them. “And I must say, I’m inclined to agree.”

“Truly! I’m glad you enjoy it. I’m sure Xander will be happy to know that as well. It’s such a shame he doesn’t do this often.” Before Ryoma could respond, she turned around to check the gathering near the bonfire. “Oh my, it seems we’re short a few people.” She turned back to them, her smile playful. “Would I be able to entreat you four for a dance?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to see me dance.” Hinoka replied with a laugh.

“Come now, I’ve danced with intoxicated knights and mercenaries alike tonight. I’m certain you can outdo them. What say you, Prince Ryoma?” Said prince felt his face flush as Camilla's attention switched to him again.

“Me?” He asked dumbly. “I, ah-“

“A skilled swordsman such as yourself? You’ll be able to pick up the steps in no time.”

“You think so? Well, then, I-“

“Perfect!” Camilla looped an arm around Ryoma's and pulled him forward towards the dancers positioning around the fire. He looked back at Hinoka to see her with a hand over her mouth, no doubt stifling the laughter threatening to burst from it. “The beat’s fairly simple,” he just barely heard her say as they faced each other. “It goes something like this.” He looked down as she tapped her thumb in his palm.

“All right.” He said stiffly. Was he sweating? It had to be the fire. They were standing rather close to it, after all. “What else?”

“Oh, you-“ She was cut off by the loud strum of a chord. “Just follow everyone else, you’ll be fine.” She reassured, patting his shoulder hastily. The strums echoed again, this time accompanied by some stringed instrument. Violin, if he recalled correctly- oh. This was a fast song, wasn’t it? He heard Xander’s voice again.

_“Oh mistress mine, where are you roaming?”_

The dancers around him were moving, and while Camilla had bid him follow everyone else, she was the only one he found himself watching, which actually was doing him fine, at the moment. Of course, something happened. She spun, then stepped past him and another woman took her place.

_“Oh, stay and hear, your true love’s coming.”_

She repeated the movement that Camilla had just done, and she was gone.

_“Who can sing both high and low.”_

The movement repeated thrice more by the time he saw Camilla again. After this next one, she’d be back.

_“Trip no further, pretty sweeting.”_

Camilla returned, holding out a hand, and he took it. She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. Wasn’t this some sort of dancing position? He tentatively put a hand on her waist and looked to her for some confirmation. Laughing, she nodded.

_“Journeys end in lovers meeting.”_

Looking into her eyes, some part of him was disappointed in the fact that their purple color was lost in the reflection of the dancing flames- 

_“Every wise man’s son doth know.”_

Oh, gods dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong thighed is kind of an inside joke. I don't know if you find it as peculiar a descriptor as my friend and I did when we came across it when reading John Webster's The Duchess of Malfi for a class. First song Xander sings is from Tamer Tamed by John Fletcher. Second one is from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. Fair warning: More singing is on the way. Anyway. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thanks again to wildheartmustang for beta reading.


End file.
